Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The dream always starts the same every single time Marinette closes her eyes.

Every time it played out exactly as it did to the letter.

It was just like any other day. Her and her mother were walking around in the Westfield Forum de Halles on a particularly busy day. The glass roof shimmering sunlight into the entrance like any other day in July, it wasn’t even that uncommon for an outdoor shopping mall to have natural sunlight coming in. The hot air waved in from the entrance and into the air conditioned interior of the mall.

But that day was especially different.

It was Marinette's 14th birthday and she had begged her mom to go shopping with her to get new clothes for the upcoming yo-yo competition. Marinette had been something of a yo-yo expert since her grandmother taught her, though she could do only a handful of tricks before hitting her face or wrapping herself on the head. She had done well in school, did all her homework on time, even got a little spending money working at the bakery with her father. Not to mention the two hundred euros grandma got her, much to the chagrin of her parents–her father was particularly vocal about giving a fourteen year old girl two hundred on her birthday.

But her mother agreed to the day trip to de Halles. She should've said no, Marinette kept thinking. She should have said yes to anything else in the entire world. Going to the Eiffel Tower, the movies, a cup of coffee at that café she really liked by the Arc de Triomphe, or a walk in the park.

Anything but the mall. Any day but that day.

Why did she have to go to the mall?

The worst thing about the dream was how vivid everything was. Everything, down to the most minute detail was painstakingly recreated in her mind.

Marinette was a few steps down, jumping on her heels like a kid on Christmas. Excitedly going three steps away from her mother. Her mother tells her to wait for her with charmed glee in her voice as she follows behind. Maybe there was a comment about her knees hurting or telling her daughter its too hot to be running down the stairs. Marinette figured they could maybe find an ice cream shop or that traveling ice cream vendor who made the finest ice cream in all of Paris. Rumored, according to her friends, to bring together true love in anyone who eats it.

It was a normal day at the mall. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Up ahead, a little kid was crying to go get a new toy tugging at the arm of an exasperated parent trying their best to say no in the kindest way.

A group of older high-school girls gossiped above her, talking about the latest scandal regarding the mayor's daughter who, supposedly, went to their school. In one corner of the mall there was a line to one store she couldn't see. What it was advertising, she couldn't tell. Maybe for some big sale going on. There had to be some big sale happening somewhere. One store she followed on social media said they were having a clearance sale for new American jackets. There were tourists walking past her speaking in a language she couldn't quite decipher–German, perhaps? Something in the Dutch, to be certain–bickering about something she could only guess.

Marinette was halfway down, her two ponytails bouncing behind catching the hem of her Jagged Stone rock t-shirt. It was when she was there, at that dreaded half way point, was when her mother called her name. She should've ignored her. She yelled at herself every time in the dream “don't turn! Don't turn around, you idiot! Close your eyes. For the love of god don't look at your mom!”

She shouldn't have looked.

She shouldn't have come to the mall on that day.

She shouldn't have begged her mother to come with her looking for some stupid clothes for some stupid competition.

She shouldn't have turned around.

But she did.

And when she did…

Her mother's head was gone.

It took a moment for her to adjust her sight. Her eyesight wasn't bad, she never had any trouble. But her vision was cloudy for a moment, the sun's rays getting in her eyes or turned too fast. Just then she felt a drip of something wet land on her cheek. Then another, then another. It wasn't raining, she thought, there wasn't a dark cloud in the sky. A perfect blue. Perhaps the sprinklers in the building were leaking water, choosing that day to suddenly burst. But it was too thick to be water. It was then she touched her cheek. Marinette saw on her finger tips a deep red and looked to her mother's headless body spraying the same crimson all humans on God's earth make in their veins gushing gallons out like a geyser. A fountain of red.

And that was the moment Marinette Doupain-Cheng screamed like she never screamed in her entire life. A scream that came deep in the core of her very soul. Her eyes wide with frenzy, her vision blurring as she tried looking for something. Anything to prove it wasn't real.

She was going insane. Of course it's not real. It's a prank. A movie stunt gone bad, one that no one told her about. A sick birthday surprise from her family and they were all in on it.

No, Marinette was not hallucinating. This was very real. As real as one would perceive reality itself and this filled her with sheer mind numbing terror. His throat closed up and raw from the screams she gave off, her eyes burned as tears poured down her face, mixing with the blood. She was covered in it. Thick red blood that rained down on her, seeping through her clothes. There was a deep sense of horror and violation.

She glimpsed up to see her mother's headless body wobbling a little. It reminded Marinette of a drunken patron walking home from the bar late at night, the way it staggered a little as if it was trying to find its balance but couldn't. Her white Cheongsam with the red, black and gold plant designs now as soaked as her daughter's clothes with her own blood. Even her purse, the one she carried with her everywhere, the one her husband gave to her on their first wedding anniversary, slipped off too easily from her shoulders, which started to sag forward before its legs finally gave way after they made one wrong step. Marinette watched in horror as her mother's decapitated body tumbled a flight of stairs. It crashed into Marinette who fell for what seemed like an eternity down the rest of the way down, hitting three steps at a time. With a loud crack and thud, Marinette made contact with the bottom floor just as chaos was unfolding right before her.

Her head was filled with screams, not just hers, but the dozens of people around her. She looked up to see the monster resembling a black knight, lanky and impossibly thin, with a long blood covered sword for a hand. The creature gave a garbled howl as it swung its broad bladed hand down on the nearest person too unfortunate enough to run before grabbing another, a woman by her screams, opening a maw full of teeth and bit her arm off. It impaled her multiple times, eating her organs before attacking someone else.

Marinette didn't care to watch the rest of this scene of carnage. She looked down to see her mother's body literally overtop of her, gushing more blood onto her. Marinette pushed the corpse off of her and scurried away from it, breaths coming in short uncontrollable huffs and tears running down her face. The ringing in her ears drowned the screams. Suddenly her fingers gently grazed across the surface of something soft and familiar. Warmth still radiating from it like a small heater slowly turning off. She glanced down, her eyes wide with terror, her heart pumping faster and faster like it was going to break free from the imprisonment her ribcage provided. She didn't want to look down. She wanted to go home with her mother safe and sound.

Marinette Doupain-Cheng looked down to see her mother's severed head looking up at her with vacant eyes. She screamed.

She screamed as she jolted up in her bed, gasping for breath as she stared at the loft that was her bedroom. The bedsheets clung to her sweaty skin, her hair practically clinging to her face with strands clumped together. Her chest felt tight, her heart beating like a drum in her ears, her hands were shaking violently as they held the rim of her blanket. Her eyes had that look a person got when the fear was too much, how they didn't focus on anything, not even the cream pink wallpaper her dad put in when she was a little girl. When things made sense, when her parents were together, when she heard the sound of her mother's voice downstairs, when butterflies didn't turn people into blood thirsty crazed monsters and ate other people.

When the entire world made sense. But that was two years ago. Nothing made sense anymore.

Calm down, she told herself, trying to steady herself, taking long deep breaths. Marinette began to count from five the way her therapist taught her, count from five in deep breaths to help her heart rate go slower. She even tightened her fists into white knuckled balls, tensing up her entire body as hard as she could for a few seconds before she released her tension and felt relaxed. Or rather as relaxed as she could get. Her heart still beat loud in her ears.

Laying back down, Marinette felt unrested. She couldn't remember the last time she had actually had a good night's sleep. Her eyes were heavy but her mind kept racing past her with thoughts like early morning traffic. Her nocturnal activities didn’t exactly help with the unusual tiredness. Marinette rolled around in her bed, situated in the small loft space her father had installed when they first moved in. It seemed like a lifetime ago when this little girl with a tooth missing begged her daddy to have her bed be above the ground like she was sleeping on a cloud. Mom was hesitant, of course, saying she could fall or trip and get hurt. But her father made sure she didn't get hurt with a smile and ingenuity. That was until he almost fell off the ladder when he was installing it and hurt his arm, had to get a cast, and hired a professional to do it for them.

Marinette pulled out her phone sitting on the shelf above her without getting up, trying to avoid looking at the wallpaper of her and her mother. She's been meaning to change it for ages but never got around to do it. Or rather couldn't bring herself to do it. Not after what she did. What it lead to. The display read it was quarter after seven. Usually she's awake earlier than that, at least around five, before getting sick of trying to sleep again and getting her day started. There were a few notifications on her phone; social media updates from friends, a text from Alya or someone else from her class, and local news alerts from the Paris police which she immediately tapped.

Another Akuma was spotted late last night in the residential area near her school. Reports explained that the creature had erupted from the apartment complex some time between eight and nine in the evening, killing and eating the inhabitants before escaping into the alley. From there police, accompanied by Agreste Defense agents, had pursued the Akuma–codenamed Horrificator due to the striking physical resemblance to a movie monster of the same name–before killing and eating three more pedestrians and fleeing into the sewers. There were additional reports of missing Parisians in the early hours of that morning.

But that wasn't the worst of it, not to Marinette. She felt for those poor people, it was outrageous how frequent these Akuma attacks were to begin with. It was the person who was identified made her stomach drop like a stone in a deep dark pit where there was no bottom. The name of the Akumatized person read: Mylène Haprèle, age 15, student of Collège Françoise Dupont. Reports indicate before she was Akumatized there may have been an argument, according to surviving neighbors, between her and her parents, both killed along with her boyfriend Ivan Bruel.

Marinette breathed a deep sigh rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands. Not Mylène, she thought dreadfully, not her. She wouldn't hurt a fly much less kill and eat people. She had known Mylène Haprèle personally since her first year of high school, the two were in the same friend group at school and took a few classes together. She and her friends always teased her about the boys she liked, trying to get her out of her nervous anxiety ridden shell to talk to someone she found attractive. It was school girl teasing and banter, nothing more. Whatever happened with her and her parents must've made her so angry or upset the Akuma latched itself into her. Akuma thrive on negative emotions. It makes it easier for them to bind themselves onto people and turn them into horrific monsters some believe represent their deepest desires and fears.

Marinette tormented herself. She heard the loud bang from a few streets away from the shelter, heard the sirens and the announcements over the PA system. They locked them down so fast. By the time it was safe to leave, it was already close to midnight and the Akuma's trail went cold. Marinette cursed herself, what a clumsy fool she thought she was. She should have thought of something, a scenario where she could slip away or caused a distraction. She could have snuck out through the back door, the one no one ever locks because it was so well hidden.

No matter. She could belittle and blame herself all she wanted. This time she was finishing the job.

Tonight's work was all the more personal.

Marinette got out of her bed and began her daily routine. She still needed to go to school and check on her father. Honestly, she wondered if he even went to bed last night.

After brushing her teeth and brushing her hair, tying it in her, as her friends put it, iconic pigtails, she got her wardrobe for the day on which wasn't fancy by any means. Famous Model and Paris beauty queen Chloe Bourgeois she was not in her eyes, wearing plain jeans with a simple pinkish t shirt with a big gray sweatshirt overtop. Not exactly the runway model look if they included shy middle class girls. Alya said not to worry about her looks or her hair and Marinette didn't, not even a spot of makeup to make her eyes darker or the sparkle lip gloss she liked. She wasn't feeling the mood to stand out that day. Oh natural was the name of the game today.

The trap door leading up to her bedroom creaked over, wide enough for her to descend the stairs but made a loud thud as it hit the ground. A gasp cried out as Marinette's father jolted awake, the sound coming from the kitchen table. Her father, Tom Dupain, was a burly man at least twice the size of Marinette herself with thick muscled arms covered in thick tufts of brown hair. The same brown hair that gave him his outgrown hair turning it into something of a mullet, joking how haircuts were overrated and how this style was in when he was her age. His sideburns had grown out connecting more of his chin and mustache giving him the appearance of a punk rock lumberjack.

He was wide eyed, searching around the room before seeing Marinette.

“Oh, good morning, bug,” he yawned loudly. “Didn't hear you come in last night. Must've dozed off.”

“It's okay, dad. I got home super late anyway I didn't want to wake you,” Marinette said. It wasn’t entirely a lie, she made sure not to make a sound when she came home through her bedroom balcony. Not to mention it was almost three AM when she finished her patrol and it wouldn't have gone well if her father woke up and saw her in…that way. “They're making me work at the Anti-Akuma shelter a lot more and making me stay there longer. Plus there was a new Akuma, so the police told us to stay anyway.”

“They're at least driving you home, aren't they?”

“Oh totally! You think they let their staff walk home in the middle of the night with an Akuma on the loose?”

Her father's smile faltered slightly. It was only the smallest hint but she could tell, she got used to reading her father's body language in the last two years.

“So you heard? About who the latest victim was, I mean.”

Marinette looked away at that moment and fell silent.

Her father got up from his seat at the table, when he stood he was practically a giant next to her. Yet his embrace was as gentle as soft pillows, hushing her soothingly before looking down at her, his eyes kind and compassionate as they always have been. Even now, almost two whole years after everything, they never once broke that humanity of his.

“I'm sorry, Marinette,” he said finally, his arms holding her.

Marinette said nothing for a minute. But she returned the hug regardless.

Tom Dupain gave his daughter a bristly kiss on the cheek and headed over to the kitchen, saying he'll make a quick bite for her before she got going for school.

Marinette silently walked to the kitchen table where there were stacks of envelopes. There were dozens of them, all scattered around the table, some stained with drops of something she could only guess were water marks. Bills, bills, junk mail, and more bills. She looked at one and grimaced, it was weeks overdue.

“Don't worry about them, Marinette,” her father called from the kitchen, the bread slicer buzzing away in his calloused hands slicing at the loaf with ease. “I was looking over those just last night. Bless your mother, Sabine knew how to handle a check book.”

“Dad, are you sure you don't want me to get a job,” Marinette asked, “like a real one, not volunteering at a shelter.”

“Nonsense, sweetheart, the shelter needs as many hands as it can get. Besides, it looks great on a resume and it keeps you in school. I wish I stayed in school instead of going into a bakery business and a little construction on the side.”He went over to the pantry to get some jam.

Marinette was about to protest and felt a sharp ping in her head as suddenly as thought itself. It was like a small migraine at first, no more than a biting sensation in her mind. Before then, she could rub her temples and it would go away. That was before it went from one to eleven in a second. Her eyes widened in pain, clutching her head, her nails digging into her scalp like she was clawing this headache away. She felt her brain being stabbed by hundreds of knives. Even her ears rang like an alarm bell. The feeling was crippling, her whole body tumbling over, knocking over a chair.

Her father's head snapped over to Marinette, who was bolting towards her bedroom. “Marinette?” He called after her but no response.

Marinette shut her loft door as tightly as she could, her eyes flickering back and forth, the pain in her head was now extending into her eyes. Her throat got hot and dry like she hadn't drunk water in ages, replaced with the acid reflex in hot and burning splashes. Scouring her bedroom, she frantically was trying to find something in it. Her desk was covered in pens and paper, her laptop had the screen closed, scattered drawings of dresses she had made in her spare time, even sketches of people she knew around Paris littered everywhere.

“Come on!” She cursed, pushing papers and pencils from the syrfaces of her desk and scattering them on the floor. “Where are you? Where are you? Where–”

With a sigh of relief she found what she was searching so desperately, almost maniacally so with the obsession of a drug addict. Only it wasn't some street drug she was searching for, but it might as well hold that same chain around her neck.

They were two small crimson earrings speckled with black, no more noticeable than any other stud earrings you'd find at the mall. Yet as far as she was concerned they might as well look like something from the depths of Hell itself. She slipped them on her ears and nearly instantly the head pain stopped and she collapsed breathing long deep breaths. A small dribble of blood ran from her nose, splattering on the carpet. The relief was replaced with anger as she steadied herself up.

“You know…” she hissed and coughed, wiping the blood off her face with a discarded bath towel she found on the floor. “I'd really appreciate it if you didn't do that in front of my dad.”

A thin mist trailed off from the earring she wore. It was barely noticeable from smoke rising from a fire in the sun until it turned a bright crimson, swirling around her. The mist began to take an eerie skeletal, humanoid shape, whose surface resembled a more solid shape resembling the exoskeleton of an insect. The form was lithe and slender, taking on a female physique with four long skeletal arms each segmented at the joint, bony fingers looking like talons. The body was entirely crimson with deep void black dots peppered all over, running up to its rounded head and face. Two shimmering shadowy antennae stretched from the head down to the back of an exposed carapace where four tattered papery wings fluttered slightly. The being’s eyes were pitch black and stretched around the mouthless face ending in jagged lines that connected in the back.

She reached out to Marinette in a threatening manner. Her clawed hand reached past her head and stretched, making those thick disgusting popping noises as she cracked and popped her arms. The creature yawned obnoxiously.

“I have to keep you on your toes, my darling Marinette,” the creature spoke despite the lack of a mouth. “How else could you fight the Akuma otherwise?”

When the creature spoke, Marinette found it regal and seductive with a hint of playful innocence. She likened it to the way a cat would toy with its food in a sadistic manner.

Marinette glared. “That wasn't okay, Tikki. We talked about this before, you don't just rip my mind apart when I'm not two feet away from you. I have a life, people to talk to and–”

“And forgetting our agreement, I see,” the creature called Tikki swept forward a little too close and too suddenly for Marinette's comfort. A claw stroked her soft cheek.“Need I remind you as my Miraculous holder, you are responsible for my power. Any idiot with two fingers can take it as easily as I can give it. Without it you are as soft and squishy as any mortal I came across,” she pinched Marinette's cheek roughly. “I mean, how else would you get your revenge if someone took your power? News flash, you'd be just like mommy dearest.”

Tikki took her claw away and made a slashing motion with her claws across her neck.

Marinette scowled, rubbing her joke. “Don't you joke about that.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I've joked worse than that. How long have you known me for?”

“Humans don't joke about the death of their loved ones. And can you please keep it down, my dad's probably wondering what's going on.”

Tikki rolled her big featureless eyes and shrugged. “Fine, buzz kill, if you say so. Just remember, anyone can take the Miraculous. If you are to be my holder, and a fine good one at that, you must never leave them be for more than a few minutes. In summary, don't forget the earrings.”

“Whatever,” Marinette growled.

“Marinette, are you okay?” Her father's voice came from downstairs followed by a few bangs at the trap door.

Marinette turned to Tikki and with a puff of smoke she was gone, dematerializing back into the earrings.

“I'm fine dad,” she called down. “Just fine…”

* * *

The day continued as normally as it could under the circumstances. At school, Marinette noticed just how quiet her friends were. The news about Mylène and Ivan spread like wild fire. Students looked at Marinette and her friends and class with a mix of pity and sadness, not many of them openly approached them, at least none she knew. She found it very nice that those people were offering their condolences.

The principal held a memorial assembly that lasted most of the day. He talked about the pair and their history at the school, mentioning moments of growth in them as people, saying how proud he was of them, and declaring how he saw in them what he saw in all of his students; the chance to achieve their potential.

Sweet words, Marinette thought to herself. But doesn't change the fact her friend turned into a monster and was eating people. Feeling it was sorta in bad taste to do a funerary service under such circumstances.

She noticed a friend or two missing from the assembly. Juleka had texted the group chat that she wasn't coming to school, saying the whole situation made her stomach hurt. She also mentioned feeling a lot of negative energy around the school now, like Mylène being a sort of plug for all the bad karma. Rose, Juleka's girlfriend and confidant for more years than Marinette could count, had opted to skip school today as well. Perhaps she was spending time with Juleka. That was the most likely reason why she'd be absent. Or it was due to the fact she and Mylène were the closest of friends even among their group. Marinette couldn't blame her, anyone really, imagining how she'd react if Alya had been Akumatized.

She of all people did know to a certain degree what it was like to lose someone to an Akuma. Especially one so close to her…

Marinette shook her head. She couldn't allow herself to think about that right now. Her mind should be focused on the important matter. Looking at the giant clock on the wall of the gymnasium, it was just after eleven in the morning, going on for two or so hours now. Unfortunately for her, it made the day move much slower and she was getting antsy. She reminded herself of her plan for the third and hopefully last time in an attempt to stay focused: go about as normally as possible, do some school work, talk to the friends who did make it school, especially Alya. If there was one person who kept up to date on all the Akuma attacks it was her. The girl was borderline obsessed with these things, going over hours of researching different types, powers, but especially the one who was fighting them. Almost all of her conversations about Akuma seem to circle around the mysterious Akuma killer.

The one the press called the Ladybug.

Little was made known about her. Whether she was simply someone in a suit or an Akuma gone rogue, was anyone's guess. Alya thinks Ladybug was some kind of alien. It was a theory that came from watching too much anime about alien superheroes who shot rays of light from their hands and battling kaiju and other alien threats. But there was only one person in the world who knew exactly who and what Ladybug was.

That was a secret Marinette kept closer than any other in her life.

It was a secret she wanted to keep that weighed on her the most.

“And now students, I'd like you to meet a very special guest. Someone who has been working diligently in keeping our great city safe from the monsters that plague it,” the principal cringed at his poor choice of wording, receiving looks from faculty and clearing of throats. After a moment he continued. “While our law enforcement has always kept us safe from crime there are some cases they need a little extra help with. Thanks to the efforts of Interpol and our local heroes of Agreste Defense, we can all rest easy knowing they are on the task of capturing the Akuma with hopes of finding a cure for this affliction. Here with us today is from the very ranks of the Agreste cadets. In fact, he's a rising star and has the most Akuma take downs in recent months. Please help me welcome Cadet Master Corporal Adrien Agreste.”

Did that make Marinette's heart skip a few beats at that name. It fluttered like a butterfly beating its wings.

Adrien Agreste, the only son and heir of the enigmatic Gabriel Agrest, CEO of Agreste Defense and the one who works closely with the Parisian government on the present crisis, was a remarkably handsome boy. Perhaps in another world he would be a model with his good looks, fair skin that had a rosey tint in the cheeks, brushed back blonde hair that might curl in the back, gorgeous emerald green eyes which sparkled in the light. He stood about half a head taller than Marinette herself with an above average build, no doubt from all the drills and working out he must do in his spare time. He wore the classic light blue uniform the other cadets had to wear with a black tie, tucked in shirt and pants that were hiked up rather high. She wondered how he could even breathe.

Maybe if he faint, she thought with a bubble of glee and excitement, she could give him CPR. She had been practicing it for her duties at the shelter. To press her lips against his would be…

She mentally smacked herself upside her head in an imaginary chibi version of herself.

Fantasies later, she told herself. Reality now.

Adrien walked up to the podium, shaking the principal’s hand. After thanking him he stood in front of the microphone. He looked nervous up there on the platform, and he began to speak.

“Good morning, everyone…students! I mean students,” he made an awkward laugh while tugging at his collar. “Sorry, it's been a long night, last night. Monster hunting is quite an experience.” He cleared his throat. “So with the Akuma still on the loose, the police and Agreste Defense would like to take this moment to remind everyone here of the immediate risks. The creature had since made its way from the apartment building on Rue des Maryrs and has since been spotted a few kilometers away. As you know, Akuma are mostly nocturnal, hiding during the day while picking off anyone who gets too close. If your place of residence is in the vicinity of the last sighting, we highly recommend you seek out an Anti-Akuma shelter near you.”

An Agreste agent wearing a similarly blue uniform to Adrien's standing from her seat. The cadet, a Japanese girl by the looks of her face and black hair, started handing out flyers about the size of a tour guide pamphlet before they opened up to reveal a small portion of the city map. Its grid layout had areas marked with a blue monarch butterfly, both symbol of Agreste Defense and where each of the shelters were located. Marinette noted the one she volunteered at between her house and the school.

“I'm also going to have to remind everyone attending here to not approach the Akuma for any reason,” Adrien continued. “i know, you don't want to hear this, but it's very important.

“Whoever these people were in their lives previously, are no longer the people they are now. We at Agreste Defense are working tirelessly on finding a cure to reverse the transformation. For now, be careful. Do not attempt to take any photos or videos. Furthermore if you're not a certified cadet or agent, you shouldn't leave your home or shelter. But if you have to leave your home or shelter for whatever reason, please seek out a police officer or an agent to help you. That's the short of it but all further details on the event of encountering an Akuma can be found in the brochures we've handed out. Please remain safe and thank you for your support.”

He gave a curt bow and walked off the stage back to his seat.

The assembly ended soon after.

For the majority of the day, Marinette spent it thinking of nothing but getting out of school and finding the Akuma. In her mind, it was her duty to find the thing that was once Mylène. Part of her blamed herself for not being around when her friend was Akumatized. Her mind raced with an obsessive feeling, another thing her and her counselor had been trying to manage it.

She couldn't imagine what being this feral beast of a former human being would entail, what it felt like to be that. She wondered right now, sitting at a lunch table with her sketch book in hand, absentmindedly doodling, if Mylène could still be in there. Could she still feel emotions? Could she still dream in that state? Is she feeling regret for her actions? Sadness? Joy?

Where was she now, Marinette thought as she drew. What dark corner of a city built on such secrecy could she be hiding herself?

Questions like that had plagued Marinette's mind ever since this all started at that mall on her 14th birthday. Akuma that turn can't be people anymore, they've lost their humanity. Or was it like a cage, where the consciousness, the soul, the person they were meant to be are still in there or are they gone forever. What's more, she thought, her pencil scraping against the paper, who in their right mind would create such horrible things. And it was someone doing this. Tikki assured her that the user of the Butterfly Miraculous was capable of creating Akuma. They just don't pop out of the ground. Someone was making them, sending them out for some purpose.

Someone was creating these monsters.

Someone was turning innocent people into Akuma.

Someone killed her mother.

The thought made Marinette's blood boil. Someone purposely murdered her mother for no reason. Her chest tightened, her teeth clenched.

I'm going to find the person doing this, her mind was cloudy with bubbling anger, her pencil held tightly in her grip. Tears were welling up. And when I do, she thought, I'm going to ki–

“Marinette.”

Marinette jumped, making an audible yelp. Her pencil fell to the table with a clatter.

Alya picked up a pencil. “Girl, you have some real zoning out issues,” she said, handing it back.

“Sorry, Alya I didn't mean to zone out,” Marinette took the pencil back, rubbing her eyes. “You know how I get when I'm drawing. The world fades away with its problems and I'm stuck in a void.”

Alya nodded with a verbal “uh-huh”. She looked down at the sketch book in Marinette's hands, scooting a little closer to her doing so. Alya, since the day she and Marinette met, had always had a reporter's curiosity about her. For the last few months, she had applied to local newspapers as a photographer or a journalist, already creating a blog talking about the Akuma and the anonymous Ladybug at such a young age. As of yet, she never heard back from anyone. But her curiosity doesn't stop her from being, as Marinette puts it, nosey. She calls it her reporter's edge.

An edge that plucked Marinette's sketch right out of her hands. The look on Alya's face was a twist of surprise, amazement and a guile of a best friend about to tease her bestie.

“You have a crush on Soldier Boy!” She cried out, kicking and cackling in sheer elation.

“Give that back!” Marinette snatched the book right out of Alya's hands and examined the drawings, making sure none of the penciling smudge. She had to admit her realistic sketch work was actually spot on for Adrien's likeness. The portions on his cheeks made him look more attractive to her, while wearing a bowler hat with a bird feather, or one where he has a more casual shirt on. She blushed at the shirtless drawing and snapped the book shut. “For your information I don't have a crush. I just got caught up in drawing.”

“Right,” Alya wasn't buying it. “And you just so happened to be drawing Adrien Agreste, son of the famed defense contractor Gabriel Agreste, and literal poster child. I can buy it.”

Marinette grumbled in embarrassment and stuffed her notebook back in her bag. “Whatever. Anyway, you were saying something about something completely unrelated to my book?”

“Little miss defensive over here,” Alya chimed with a crow, pulling out her phone. “I was saying guess who gets to throw a massive party in her daddy's ‘palace’ while the rest of us are in lock down during a monster attack. You'll never guess,”

“Chloe Bourgeois,”

“Ding ding! You win a prize!”

“It doesn't really matter,” Marinette said. “Chloe has always been a brat whose dad bends over backwards for her every whim. She probably doesn't realize that the Akuma is still at large.”

“Probably not,” Alya said, flipping through Chloe's modeling account. “Seems she's throwing a party for her new movie coming out. According to some inside sources, it was originally going to be a ladybug themed party. But after the Akuma appeared, plans quickly changed with no explanation. So I was thinking could this be a cover up? Where she's acting not to know about the sudden plan change–”

“Who can't act for the life of her,”

“Indeed not. I mean, have you seen her vampire romance movies? Yikes! But more to the point. What if she was Ladybug?”

There was a long moment of silence. Then Marinette snorted a long laugh. Alya couldn't help joining in.

Suddenly, Marinette's phone chimed, its display on the screen a reminder.

“Sorry Alya I gotta get going,” Marinette said while standing and collecting her pencil and slinging her backpack on. “I gotta sign in early at the shelter before sundown.”

“A little early to be heading to the nearest shelter isn't it?” Alya asked. “Besides, curfew isn't until six tonight. We can hang out until then.”

“I'd love to Alya, I really would,” this wasn't a new speech to Marinette. Unfortunately, she had to lie to her best friend for her own safety. Were Alya to learn the truth… she continued. “The management wants the volunteers to get there as soon as they can. Getting ready for the onslaught of civilians, preparing enough food for everyone, making sure we have enough cots and blankets. Who knows how many we'll get tonight.”

“Alright then,” Alya stood up with her friend and hugged her.

Marinette walked away from the school at a brisk pace. Her eyes were scanning the surrounding street seeing that there were more people than she'd anticipated and kept walking. After the coast was clear she ducked into the nearest alley, breathing a shaky sigh.

The crimson mist seeped from her earrings and a long insectoid arm reached out from behind her head. The long fingers taking the zipper and peeling open her bag and rummaging through it, the upper body and head had emerged. With a squeak of delight, Tikki found what she had been looking for; fresh bakery macaroons. After meeting the thing calling herself Tikki, Marinette had quickly found out she had a devastating sweet tooth. She remembered the whole incident where Tikki ate the baker's supply of macaroons, cookies, galette and cinnamon buns in less than an hour. Her father was devastated to find his shop ransacked and blamed it on some neighborhood brats in the area, swearing he had locked the shop. Since then, Marinette had carried some sweets in her backpack along with a bag of cookies. Tikki said she enjoyed cookies on occasion but macaroons hit the spot.

She hummed as she munched on them. Her normally featureless mouth split open in four segmented jaws, each with fine rows of small ridge-like teeth. Thick saliva trickled down her fangs. She plucked one macaroon, skewering it like a fisherman with his harpoon, slid it between her mandibles and bit down with a sickening crunch.

“Gross,” Marinette muttered in revulsion.

“You've seen worse,” Tikki rattled as she took another, her talons made an unnerving scraping noise when she pulled it out. “Besides, can't fight on an empty stomach. I need all the fuel I need for when we fight the Akuma tonight.”

“‘We’,” Marinette scoffed. “You know me since I'm doing all the fighting.”

“And yet, it is my power you use to fight.” Tikki glared at Marinette making a hiss. “Don't get snippy with me, girly, just because you're my holder doesn't mean you can give me lip. I could easily de-transform mid fight. See how your mortal fleshy body will stand against a blow to the head that could crush concrete. Or how you'd fare when your arm is bitten off. Or–”

“I get the picture,” Marinette rolled her eyes, looking up at the sun. It was starting to descend further down. For a lot of people, this meant to hurry up on whatever they were doing in the day and get to somewhere safe as possible. They'll lock their doors, some will board their houses up like in a zombie movie. Might work if they were dealing with zombies. She heard from someone about installing some high tech security systems, some going for something less costly like nailing boards along their roofs and doors. She knew a few people in her neighborhood trying to buy firearms but that was a waste of money, in her opinion. What was this, the United States?

Someone somewhere, out there in the city, is going to go to a shelter. If Marinette had a choice on where to go, it was definitely at an Anti-Akuma shelter. They had reinforced walls, made with layers of steel, concrete and titanium, thanks in part to the generous spending of Agreste Defense, who spared no expense to care for the people of Paris. The three layered blast doors were air tight, sound proof dorm rooms with cots and blankets, a spacious gym sized hall where people could stay until the morning if needed. It reminded Marinette of homeless shelters, and if memory served her correctly some homeless shelters were configured into Cold War era bomb shelters. It would have been a problem for a lot of people if the homeless population in Paris wasn't the first to be eaten in the early days.

Marinette pulled out her phone while Tikki licked her claws with a blue tongue–at least she thought it might be a tongue–and saw a text from her father. He decided not to go to a shelter and stayed at home. His reasoning was that the Akuma was nowhere near their bakery, the police will catch it before then. Or kill it. Preferably killing it, put it out of its misery. If it was miserable.

If she was miserable.

Fine by her. She'll make sure the Akuma was far from her house and her father, by whatever means necessary.

 

* * *

“Someone, please help me!”

The woman ran through the streets, frantic and terrified. The sun had set no sooner than eight o'clock in the evening. But the city of Paris had gone dark and quiet, what little foot and vehicle traffic still remaining were in patrols and the crowd now at the Grand Paris hotel. The woman and her friends were running late for the event. They were actresses alongside Chloe Bourgeois, who remembered their names as well as the way someone might forget their keys or lose change in her purse. What started as a quick pit stop at a quickly closing supermarket, turned into a car chase from Dante's Inferno, steeped in the blood of the woman's friends and a crushed car.

The latter of which was crushed beyond recognition, turned into a convertible by force. Broken glass littered the road and sidewalk. Some of which were stained in a deep crimson.

The woman fled while the screams of her friends echoed throughout the small area. She couldn't believe she'd do that to them. After all the times they were berated by Chloe, had to get her the right latte, remembering her lines for her when she was too busy swooning over her male co-stars, and here she was wearing a skimpy dress showering too much cleavage and now abandoning her friends to be eaten alive. Simply, it was her body moving on its own. This wasn't what she had planned for her life; get a few credits under her belt, get a decent cut of the residuals and maybe meet someone in Hollywood who shared her love of screenwriting. Start a family. Have a life.

She banged on the doors, screaming for someone, anyone, who could help her. Most of the houses looked dark and empty; she could clearly see people inside. Just the subtle shifting of a curtain or a shape moving away from the light. The street itself looked almost abandoned. No street lamps were turned on and the city had an unnerving feeling to it. As if all the light in the city, hundreds of years worth from the time of kings to today, had given up and allowed darkness to win their eternal war for the night. And here this woman was, jumping at shifting shadows, desperately running from an invisible phantom.

And no one, not a single soul, dared to step outside. As if death itself was after her. Anyone who helped would meet the Reaper, taking their life and leaving the body and leaving it cold and mangled.

She was alone.

Alone in a city with the monster.

Yet, she thought gloomy, this is what I deserved for abandoning my friends.

The woman ducked into an alley, the closest she could find, running like her life depended on it. It did in this instance. Her heels finally gave way after surviving so much running, snapping and sending her sprawling on the pavement. She cursed loudly. Her forearms stung and bruised, large scrapes turned to growing red slashes. She tried to get up, tried to stand. She felt something wet dripping on her head and hand. Was it raining? Of course not, the sky was as clear as it had been all summer, the moon was full and uncomfortably close for her liking. More droplets rained down, some clear and viscous, almost warm, while others were a deep red. A red only recognizable because it's the color which flows through the veins of every creature of God's earth.

Blood.

She slowly looked up at the abnormally massive creature clinging between the two walls of the buildings. It was honestly impossibly big to be moving so agile in such a tight space, reminding the woman of a simian climbing down from a tree. It had to be over fourteen feet in height.

The creature's body was like that of a salamander if it had a toad's rough skin, scaly and pebbled in a brilliant purple running from its muscular arms down to a long tail that cracked in the air. Its head had these brilliant fuchsia-like appendages, almost like a feather-like frill. Each of them patterned in a reddish and purple eye looking down at her. The Akuma had three eyes on its deformed catfish looking head which had eerily human looking teeth–canines in particular were the size of shovels. They were bright and yellow, two were bigger and rounder than the third which sat comfortably in the middle of its face. Long fleshy whiskers grazed along the side of the walls, making a chattering nose in the back of its throat.

Its arms, as slowly as it could, crept closer, the long claws scraped along the walls. The woman saw in its lipless maw bits of tattered flesh and clothing. One article dropped to the ground inches away from her. The motion must've wiggled out between its teeth. A small studded ring clattered once belonging to a sweet girl from America, who said was getting married in the winter.

The Horrificator opened its jaws wide enough to see three spike-like pinchers in the far back of its throat. The most disgusting sound came from the back of its throat again only now the sound came closer for her. It shot a long tongue, dark gray and covered in these thick warts and boney teeth. The spikes opened into a claw that grabbed the woman before she could even scream. She died before the appendage could pull her behind its teeth, crushing her head in its pincer; the body was dragged into its mouth where the mid section was cut in half. Blood spilled in the gallons on the spot where she had fallen. Her hands, severed at the forearms, tumbled in mid air and hit the ground with a wet thud. The rest of her lower half followed suit.

The Horrificator tilted its head to the side. It hadn't even swallowed the other half when her body fell. With a gulp, it slowly lowered itself to the ground. It prodded the remains with its claws, walking on its knuckles like a gorilla. But the ever present hunger made it resume eating greedily. All day it had gnawed at it like a dog with a bone, teeth ever biting, thought consumed by the need to feed. Something in its head was commanding it to grow in strength, a phantom in its own right. The Horrificator had picked off a few people throughout the day, cyclists and homeless people, ones who dared live in the sewers, but nothing satisfied it. The voice in its head told it would never be satisfied until it fulfilled a purpose of some kind.

To retrieve something for it.

To retrieve the–

“Oh Mylène, you poor thing.”

The Akuma snapped its head towards the newcomer and growled deeply. Its kill was quickly forgotten. Its eyes glisten when it gazed at the girl with bluish black hair in two ponytails and wearing a gray sweatshirt. It tilted its head again, trying to remember something but couldn’t.

“I'm sorry I have to do this to you. You were always so nice to me and Alya, Juleka and Rose,” the girl said. A thick crimson mist forming into an insectoid creature took shape, coiling around her, its claws digging into her shoulders. “But honestly, I can't sleep at night knowing you've turned into this. I take no pleasure in it, but I have to stop the thing you turned into. Please forgive me.”

The voice in the Horrificator burned in its skull. Commanding the Akuma to kill the girl, and take the earrings on her person. Earrings that started to shimmer and glow, the spirit circling around her snickering with glee.

“Go on, Marinette,” it told her as the Horrificator roared at them. A wicked toothy smile materialized on its horrid face. “Say the words.”

The girl clenched her first and shut her eyes tight. A single tear rolling down her cheek, reflecting the oncoming monster. Her eyes opened and there was rage in them.

“Tikki, spots on.”

* * *

“Thank you all so much for coming!” Chloe Bourgeois, actress and model extraordinaire, cheered from the stage. The crowd of people applauded the young starlet with her bright yellow sparkling dress which showed her bare left shoulder, big beautiful blonde hair done up almost like a big beehive where curls poked out from the angles and sides, and her shimmering slippers. She demanded they'd be ruby for her big night and her father, ever a people pleaser especially to her, couldn't say no despite telling her the bright ruby red would clash with the rest of her dress.

But why should she care? She had a crowd of dozens of Paris's top film producers, song writers, actors and actresses in the ballroom of the Grand Paris hotel, usually reserved for weddings. Not this time. Daddy made sure to clear everything for the event.

“It is truly my pleasure, thanks in part to my brilliant producer, director and assistant writer, Bob Roth,” Chloe gestured to the man wearing a more casual suit then what was required of all the guests eating at the buffet table. He gave a curt wave as he slipped another caviar cracker in his mouth. “It's honestly been a dream of mine to complete the epic saga started by a brilliant romance writer, aka me. This summer will be the climactic end to a beloved saga where my character, Christy Belar, must choose her soul mate while facing the end of the world. I'm so excited to announce my movie, Breaking the 5th Night part 4, this summer world wide!”

As though on cue, a large banner unfurled behind her. She stood proud and smug like a child showing off a new toy to her parents. She could see the looks on people's faces, a mix of genuine surprise were on some, while others didn't know what to make of the strange poster. It depicted Chloe posed in a somewhat provocative manner between three men, two of which were the actors in heavy makeup. One was a blue shirtless alien with two antennae on his forehead and large fake shark teeth, wearing only a baseball cap and a pair of torn cargo shorts. The other was more or less a person with a deer head and robot arms, yet the CGI was laughably bad with almost half the budget of any summer blockbuster. The third one was meant to be a vampire but his skin was sparkling like diamonds, for what reason they would never know.

However, to avoid the infamous wrath of their hostess, the guests in attendance all clapped politely. Some press were present after all and didn't need one of her famous blow ups to be featured on another tabloid paper.

“Isn't this exciting, Bob?” Mayor Bourgeois said, leaning in, bouncing the way a plump man does when enthralled by his daughter's success. “My little girl is a movie star like she always wanted to be. Isn't this wonderful?”

“It would be wonderful if she could pull off the acting part,” Bob Roth grumbled between bites of crackers while gulping down his champagne. “Her last ‘masterpiece’ with the sparkling vampire crashed so hard at the box office, theaters had to pull it out a week after release. That's not the kind of money my studio likes burning, Mayor.”

“Ah, but don't forget who's son's been bailed out of yet another career ruining scandal involving a fan of dubious age,” the Mayor crowed gloatingly. “You owe me one too many favors, Bobby my boy. Don't forget your manners.”

Bob Roth didn't speak after and kept eating.

“I propose a toast to a successful franchise and a lucrative movie deal for me!” Chloe raised a glass she got from one of the passing servers.

She raised it high to the crowd.

That was when the ballroom's wall, the one she was standing behind in front of her poster, exploded.

The wall literally crumbled in a blast of pure force. Like a wrecking ball had swung and hit the brick and mortar with full force and completely demolished it. The ornate walls of the ballroom, gold arches, electrical candelabras in the shape of angels, decorations of gold and copper all went flying in the air. Debris rained down on the now running crowd of people, crushing and obliterating tables and raining an additional storm splinters on the fleeing spectators. Some guests had been the targets of these projectiles and were killed instantly. Others weren't as lucky. Limbs crushed beneath while their fellow party goers fled, some even abandoned their so-called friends in an attempt of self preservation.

In the center of it all was a massive thing catering the expensive floor a few feet deep and a few feet away from Chloe.

Chloe had somehow been protected in all of this destruction, her massive poster protecting her taking the brunt of the damage was torn in half. She fell face first on the hard floor, hitting her nose, her very expensive nose her daddy had to pay a small fortune to have it perfect. Now bent slightly to the left and bleeding from it. She coughed at the cloud of dust that had started to bloom around her ballroom, silhouettes of her guests were seen running for the entrance, their screams of terror filling the air. Chloe winces at her nose now trickling a small stream of blood. It stung like a blunt hammer, dribbling down her very expensive dress. If only that had all mattered to her then.

Chloe Bourgeois wasn't the kind of girl to understand when to run from immediate danger. Growing up in extreme wealth and status her priorities had always been about her vapid pursuits and materialism. When she turned, watching as her very big poster to her latest movie had not only been torn apart, but set on fire due to the electrical wiring sparking up thanks to the new massive hole in the wall, she thought the world had ended. That was a fifty foot tall banner made with her exact instructions to have her looking more beautiful and attractive than her two meat head co-stars. She watched as her face on the fabric was consumed by flames leaving a smell like burning tires behind.

You might as well have told her her hair looked bad and the outrage would have been less severe.

“HOW DARE YOU?!” She shrieked at the moving lump embedded in the ballroom's floor, wiggling around to free itself. Chloe got up, brushed her dress off from the dust and smeared some blood turning her bright yellow dress into a more beigey brown color, storming towards the thing. “Do you have any idea how much money that cost my father to make? From scratch! How many hours did it took for the production team to make it and deliver it here in under forty-eight hours?! You better be drunk as hell or ridiculously stupid, because no explanation will save you from the biggest lawsuit in European history you worthless piece of–”

Chloe Bourgeois stopped just inches away from the mass.

One giant claw burst from the breaking boards. It crushed the rim making the already big hole even bigger. Big enough for the Horrificator to slowly crawl out. The Akuma shook the remaining dust and dirt off the way a dog shakes. After a moment, all three eyes looked down on Chloe. They were glowing with rage and hunger, a low guttural growl left its vaguely human jaws.

“D-d-d-did I call you worthless?” Chloe had a semi nervous smirk on her face and her voice was very shaky, more like a squeak. “I meant to say it in the-the-the…n-n-nice way…you know…like they d-d-d-do in…New York? Germany? Canada?”

The jaws parted wide, the barbed tongue clicking readying itself to spring to life. Saliva trickling down its fangs reflecting Chloe's terrified face.

But the only thing to enter its mouth and exit out the back of its throat was the still flickering tip of a street lamp. Its glass bulbs shattered immediately on impact with flesh tearing it, ripping it until it exploded out the back of the throat. It looked like a trident with one flourish breaking off, ripping the flesh and bone so open it sent chunks of bits out. Blood spitting out the back.

The force at which it was thrown like a spear carried with it enough torque to send the Horrificator soaring across the ballroom, ripping its still-stuck arm completely off with strands of flesh and muscle flickering off as it was pinned on the far wall. It struggled a few feet off the ground, dazed and confused. Its claws feebly scratched at the cast iron makeshift javelin. Whimpering and making some high pitch noises, dangling but slowly regaining its senses.

It was at that moment the dust cleared and she stood at the center of the massive break in the wall, her chitinous chest flexing taking a deep breath before vaporous white foggy steam spilled out, exiting through a pair of vent like openings in her mask. Chloe didn't stay long to look at the imposing armored figure long after her father finally came to save her, but what she saw was breathtakingly powerful.

The Ladybug looked very slim and small comparatively next to Horrificator. Covered from head to toe in that chitinous armor, she looked like a monster herself with big white patches for eyes around what could have been a face mask, with two smaller ones hidden behind in a pair of fins protruding from the sides of her head facing backwards. Her arms and legs had short jagged spikes running upwards from her wrists to her elbows, with two being particularly long and sharp. The mask had a thin line where the mouth was, fangs studded around this area like the mandibles of a spider. On her back was a carapace that looked from a distance like a backpack only flickering open on a reflex. True to her name, the entire body was a deep crimson red with jet black spots.

Sparks rained down from the ceiling dancing harmlessly on her. Ladybug's footsteps made a sound like the spurs on hard stone. Steam hissing out of the mouth piece again. Her head scanned the ballroom from left to right, it had been completely emptied out in the time she and the Horrificator had arrived. She couldn't help but linger at the severed limbs of the people or the blood trail or the dead bodies around her. It made her remember that day, when everything went to hell and blood was everywhere. When her mother was beheaded right in front of her.

That was the day she made a promise to avenge her mother by making a deal with the devil. By becoming Ladybug.

Her attention was brought to the present moment at the sounds of twisting metal.

The Horrificator had snapped the cast iron rod in half in its grip. It fell to the ground, clattering and creating a dust cloud as it snarled at its attacker. Ladybug watched the stump of the arm that had been torn off flex and bubble with new muscle fibers, a thick purple tinted vapor gushing from the wounds she had inflicted seal up in seconds. Suddenly a bone popped out of the stump, sprouting from the humerus to the radius and ulna, thick red pulsing energy came throbbing like veins. Suddenly the hand burst out from the end, tendrils of flesh began expanding and covering the newly grown appendage like a sentient fungus. Even the large hole from the makeshift javelin began to close in a rapid extension of sinew and veins. In under a minute, the arm grew back entirely as if nothing happened to it. Horrificator looked at the new hand, flexing its fingers that made disgusting popping sounds with each motion it made.

Concluding it to be satisfactory, the Akuma turned all three of its sights on Ladybug bug giving her an intimidating howl of rage.

“Your regeneration is impressive,” Ladybug's voice came filter speaking through the mask making it still feminine but with a deep resonating twang. “Means you've been eating too many people already. Well, I'm here to stop it right now.”

Horrificator ignored her, either not understanding or too far gone to register the words. It roared again, its mighty tail lashing out at the ground, launching it into the air. With both gorilla arms raised high, it slammed hard into the ground. Splinters and dust exploded, sending more debris into the air, creating a new cloud. But as it looked, Ladybug wasn't there.

She leapt out of the way in time, hovering mere inches away from the Akuma's back. The carapace on her back opened wide for a pair of transparent wings to fold open, fluttering in a blinding motion. They had been quite helpful in the past. While she possessed quick reflexes and agility, Ladybug wasn't always fast enough while dodging a blow and suffered for it later. She maneuvered mid air turning in the blink of an eye and kicking the Akuma across the back of her head. One of the sharp edges of her legs gave a gnarled gash across the head, severing a few of the fuchsia. They spurt a fine purple blood and the Akuma screeched.

As it was starting to heal, Ladybug's fingers became encased in a layer of the chitinous armor. They were thick and black with long clawed tips on each finger. Ladybug raised her arms up and brought them down, tucking her wings and letting gravity bring her down. The claws ripped into the flesh, scouring it deeply. They made a disgusting tearing noise going down like ripping open a watermelon with your bare hands, blood drenching her arm before steaming and fading away. She landed on the ruined floor and pressed the attack. She left massive lashes so deep into the lower back she swore she could just feel the tips of her claws scratching the vertebrae.

The howls of the Horrificator echoed. Its tail lashed like a whip until it brought the sharp jagged end of it backwards. Ladybug had no time to react. The tip broke apart the armor and broke through Ladybug's soft layer, exiting out of her right collar bone and driving it deep. Ladybug screamed in sheer agony. Her claw retracted, her hands gripped the bloody end of the barbed tail. Had she not had the mask on, the girl beneath it would have a face contorting itself in a grimace look of atrocious suffering.

If only this was the first time she felt such pain.

The Horrificator turned. Its back closing the wounds almost instantaneously. Ladybug's grunts and hisses worsened to another scream, struggling against the spike now sliding deeper as it lifted her off the ground. The Akuma stared at her for a moment, its head tilting from side to side. It was like she was being examined, an act of curiosity like one would for a piece of art trying to deduct the image before its eyes. Was it admiring its work? Was it finding satisfaction in the endless suffering of its opponent? If only the Ladybug could truly understand what was going through this thing that was once her friend. She wanted to reach Mylène so desperately. Everything in her heart wanted to bring her back, turn her to a normal human being with no desire to kill and eat.

But that was impossible. There was no method in the world to restore her. This thing wasn't Mylène Haprèle anymore. Everything about this monster was all wrong. But Ladybug could still put things right by ending this monster's horrible existence.

Horrificator leaned down to her eye level, its jaws parted wide, thick glossy spit trickled down her fangs. Its tongue spiked with anticipation to take its victim down to the depths of its gullet. But then never got the chance to grab her.

Ladybug finally let go of the spike impaling her shoulder. The pain killers the suit administered finally numbed what was a deep endless burning pain to no more than a light throbbing sting. From the tips of her elbows, the spikes extended outward making a pair of long jagged arm blades that pulsed fine red veins. Suddenly, the tail was cut in two pieces, one chunky half clattering in a wet splat. She took the bloody stump poking out of her shoulder and yanked it out of her leaving a hole that was being covered rapidly by the armor's folds. There was a loud hiss as vapor seeped from the wound. Ladybug winced physically. She refused to falter.

The Horrificator growled, opening its mouth and lashing out its tongue like a whip. The Ladybug was ready for this, dodging the attack and used the severed spiked end of the tail and plunged it down, pinning the tongue to the ground. Thrashing and snapping at the open air, it allowed Ladybug to scale up the grotesque appendage–her feet making a disgusting wet noise running up it. She could feel the snapping and breaking of the toothy spikes with each step. With her arms behind her and the blades crossed, she was as close to the monster as she could and in a swift motion, the blades folded. They tucked themselves in before shifting from facing behind her to front. Their serrated tips extended and lanced the eyes of the monster exiting out the back of its head.

It reared up in pain, or some semblance of pain it could feel. Thrashing and clawing at the blades. It couldn't move more than an inch with its tongue still pinned to the floor, the spiked tail was also slow to regenerate from all this damage. Too much damage was being dealt. And she did not let up the onslaught.

Ladybug retracted her blades back into her arm blades with sickening ease as she leapt in front of the last remaining eye. The third eye was planted right in its forehead. It reminded her of a Cyclops from her history classes. Swiveling in its socket, staring up at her. It glared with anger, a hiss escaping its fangs like an enraged crocodile. That all changed when the Ladybug grabbed the eye as roughly as she could in her clawed hands puncturing the yellow sclera. She pulled on it as hard as she could, the optical nerves staying rooted in the skull. The Akuma struggled and bucked wildly, its clawed hands raised high trying to grab its attacker. But with a roar from Ladybug, her mask breaking open in a grimace full of red triangular teeth and fangs, hot steamy breath leaving her body, she tore the eye free from its socket.

Blood exploded. To her it was a fountain of dark viscous matter which sprayed her like a riot hose. It coated her crimson armor that vaporized instantly. Some of it got in her mouth. She didn't taste anything, it evaporated too fast. It only added to her frightening visage, slump over a steaming gushing eye socket. The eye of the Akuma still gripped in her hands.

The Akuma tried to swing at her with its claws, only to have both hands severed at the wrist and letting the sharp blade plunge into the skull where it's brain should be.

Ladybug panted heavily, discarding the eye. Some of the spots on her shell started to fade. It most certainly wasn't a good sign. Tikki told her once in the beginning that her power was finite, Marinette couldn't stay in this form forever especially if she exerted more energy than she needed to. What's more, the wound inflicted on her had taken more of her energy to heal and it still was hurting to move. Her right arm felt numb and she could barely feel it, only a burning tingling sensation where her nerves and collarbone were starting to heal. She had to find the source of the Akuma's power as soon as she could before time ran out for her. Luckily for her she knew exactly what that power source was.

Akuma can regenerate endlessly. Ladybug could hack away at this thing all day and all night long for all the cosmos cared. No matter how much damage it could take, it would heal as fast as she could make it. It was its ultimate defense. But also its greatest weakness. The regeneration doesn't come from out of nowhere. There was a permanent means of killing it. Inside each Akuma, no bigger than a fully grown pomegranate, was a fleshy bulbous organ commonly referred to as a heart.

Through the eyes of her mask, everything around her turned from vibrant if not dulled from the dirt and debris from the fight ballroom to a dark gray landscape. Shadows danced around her, consuming even the sound in the room to a dark rumble. Gave her the creeps the first time she used it, reminding her of that fantasy movie whenever the hero turned invincible shadows and phantoms came to life. Where the dead could be seen. But she wasn't looking for specters, only at the heart. Like many Akuma the heart showed up in the dead center of its chest, pulsing with black energy that gives the creature power. This heart had dozens, maybe hundreds, of small tendril-like appendages mapping throughout its body like a real nervous system.

Only instead of the brain it all centered around the heart. A corrupted heart surrounded by the evil it makes.

Just gotta get through all this flesh and Mylène will be free, Ladybug thought before her vision blacked out.

She felt her body tumble in the air for what seemed like an eternity and a half. Everything around her went back to normal but in slow motion, the fine ornate trim of the hall covered in an even finer layer of dust and blood blurred together as her vision sped up and she crashed into a wall. The impact shook her to her very core. She could feel every bone in her body shatter like fine china before being reformed in her body faster than an instant. Yet the pain still resided like tiny barbed needles piercing her at once. Coughing up blood, Ladybug peeled herself out of the crater she had made from her impact. She heaved and spat up another glob of bright red blood. Her whole body was shaking. But not because of the pain or adrenaline.

From across the room, the Horrificator rose with a brand new tail spike, swaying behind it like it was waving to her. The severed spiked end had completely evaporated, freeing the tongue to whip around licking its chops, spikes clattering as it did so. By time its third eye grew back into place completely –literally popping out a new one with a thick and grotesque squish like a bubble–its other two eyes had fully recovered as well. The wounds closing in exponential speed. The Akuma grunted and bellowed a roar that should have terrified her.

If only it had that effect.

Ladybug stood up, panting as more of her spots started disappearing. Time was running out for her. And she had had enough of this.

The jaws of the mask parted again and with a roar of pure rage that shocked even the Akuma, who even recoiled slightly, she charged. Her arms were held out wide like she was going to embrace someone in the world’s angriest hug. Albeit a deadly embrace, the backward facing blades extended outward again with a seething pulse followed by her claws covering her fingers. The Ladybug roared again, matched only by the Akuma, who had begun to gallop.

The two met in the middle. The shockwave created from their collision had enough force to send settled debris back into the air in a cloud of war. Ladybug's armor was covered in dust, giving it more of an auburn color than her crimson. She held her ground, literally holding the Akuma by the jaws, digging in her heels into the floor like an anchor, breaking apart the floorboards beneath. Her claws held firm into the Akuma's face, digging into the scaly skin while holding against its overwhelming weight.

The Horrificator smashed the ground with its Tremendous bulk and size. It was pushing hard against the small yet solid stance of its opponent. It growled trying to intimidate her, make her falter in some way, just an inch so it could crush the girl and tear her apart. The voice returned to its head like a buzzing fly. It was ordering the Akuma to kill the girl and take something called a Miraculous.

Ladybug caught the faint glimpse of its tail rise from the dust cloud they created. It swayed lazily in the way a cat did when it was about to pounce. Suddenly it bucked forward, pushing Ladybug back by a few feet, forcing her to let go. As if smiling the way a toad might smile, Horrificator launched its tongue faster than a speeding bullet, with the recoil of a shotgun. Ladybug saw it coming though, turning to the right, avoiding its fleshy grasp and snapping fangs. They did catch something however. The backward facing blade hit the tongue dead in the middle using its own momentum to cut even easier than normal. Blood splatter onto the mask as she roared, running as the blade was cutting through the flesh like a ninja.

She got close enough to the face where the blade nearly nicked the soft layer of skin. Then the large left arm shot out of nowhere, attempting to grab her. It missed, she had jumped, spinning around like a windmill. The blades slit open the wrist of the Akuma, blood spurt out in a burst of inky fluids. The tongue, once split into two halves down the middle, became two separate appendages, falling into the floor with a wet and grotesque splat.

Ladybug finally had an opening.

But so did the Horrificator.

The right arm struck like the bite of a poisonous snake. Its claws wrapped around Ladybug's left arm–it looked surprisingly tiny compared to the massive bulk, like a thin branch in the hands of a lumberjack, big and muscular. That strength was used to unnatural efficiency; the Horrificator twisted and broke Ladybug's arm with a flick of the wrist. The limb twisted, sending such unrelenting pain up the body of Ladybug, her scream echoed in the ballroom so loud it sent dust raining down.

If only that stopped her. If only she felt it anymore.

Ladybug's eyes seemed to glow an almost dark red. Maybe it was the tint from the dirty armor. But that wasn't it and it knew it. She glowered, the beat of her heart thrusting in her ears as everything around her turned red.

“Yes,” said the echoing voice of Tikki in her mind, a sound as sick and sweet as it ever hasn't been. “Give in to your rage, Marinette.”

Ladybug brought her free arm down on the Horrificator's, the blade sang as it cut through flesh and bone. It came off with a sickening pop, blood gushing out as the Akuma staggered back. With another swift motion, the fingers of the hand now hanging limply from her mangled arm flew off. As the hand fell to the ground, her arm started glowing a fiery red as steam seeped through the cracks again. Her arm twisted back and forth, popping bone and reattaching flesh. It was bent completely backwards before pulling at itself back in. It wasn't completely healed like before. Her power was running out faster by the minute and her wounds won't be healing much longer. But the arm was functional enough. Held together by the chitinous armor engulfing her body.

“Remember what these monsters have done to you,” Tikki goaded with glee. “What they'll do to more innocent people. Your friends, family, the ones you love will all die if you don't kill the Akuma.”

Ladybug charged.

Her swings and slashes were merciless. The blades cut even deeper than before, blood spraying onto her like raining ink. She was targeting the torso mostly, throwing herself into her attacks, aiming for the heart itself. One slash came so hard, its intestines spilled out onto the ground. It tried in vain to hold its guts, slipping through its fingers. When the Horrificator tried to bite down on her head, Ladybug started slashing at the neck. Over and over she left long deep cuts across the throat, sinew and muscle tearing free with each strike.

“Your mother died because you wanted to go to the mall on your birthday. You wanted to look nice for some stupid event. Ignorant child! If it weren't for you, mommy would still be alive. If you hadn't wanted such materialistic things you wouldn't be here, or trying yourself to sleep, pitying yourself like the miserable thing you are.”

Flashes of images pass through Ladybug's eyes. Perhaps Tikki was trying more ways to provoke her, trying to make her more angry and violent towards the monster. This monster who was once her friend. Memories flooded her mind, memories of her and Mylène, of their friends. Having fun, staying up late at sleep overs, trying out new clothes, watching Chloe's bad movies and laughing like school children. These were memories of a person who meant so much to Marinette Doupain-Cheng and now here she was as the Ladybug, whose screams of rages became screams of pain and anguish. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that someone like Mylène had turned into an Akuma, someone who was genuinely kind and compassionate towards her. Even when her mother died she was the one who would come to the hospital she was staying at when Marinette had that mental breakdown and tried to end her own life.

But then this is what Mylène turned into.

A horrific monster.

Someone turned an innocent girl into this freak of nature. Someone like her.

Someone who should pay for their evil doing and they'll pay with blood.

Blood that came in a geyser when the blades landed one final powerful blow on the neck. Cutting so easily through the scaly hide, the muscles and the bones, the head left the body and toppled away leaving patches of inky blood in its wake. It still twitched with life, the tongue, after regrowing, slapped against the ruined ground. The body fell over, twitching in its own way as it started to regrow a new head. The brain popped out of the stump of the spine and started to already form a new skull around it with hundreds, maybe even thousands of muscles and flesh spreading.

Ladybug gave it no time to recover. She climbed atop the massive chest. She then coated her crimson fingers into the claws and started plunging them into the chest, peeling flesh apart and tearing bone out. Blood spilled and trickled down. She could feel her power draining faster, she couldn't afford to waste any more time. She slashed at the chest, deeper and deeper, even at one point using her teeth to bite chunks out of the flesh before spitting them out. She reached the ribcage, a blackened bloody bone stood no chance when Ladybug punched it with her enhanced strength and ripped it completely out.

Finally she got to the very source of the Akuma's power.

The heart pulsed a black inky thrum. It looked no different from an actual heart, only bigger and more bulbous. Root-like veins spidered and integrated with the body, some even sending small dark purple illuminated colors up, most likely the signals sent to the body during regeneration.

Ladybug tosses the broken ribcage away, plunging her clawed hands deep into the flesh, pulling out the heart before plunging her teeth into the soft meat. This was her ultimate mission: to feed on the Akuma's heart, to absorb its negativity to make her Miraculous stronger. Long ago, Tikki made her comply with this disgusting act saying it was the only way to get more powerful. When that didn't convince her, Tikki came up with a more persuasive argument. This was simply by taking over, wearing Marinette's body as a skin suit and forcing her to eat the heart. Now she did it willingly.

She could practically feel Tikki inside the armor smile a predatory leer, her voice echoing in her head, “good girl. Eat it all up for me.”

She didn't stop eating until everything was going. Even the veins attached to it. Not one ounce of the heart was left.

She even licked the inky blood from her very hands.

Gulp.

The police and Agreste Defense agents had finally arrived. Ladybug didn't know if they had been waiting outside when the fight finally ended and she frankly didn't care. The job was done anyway. They poured in from the massive hole she had made earlier, shouting, guns drawn and shields protecting them for what little good they would do.

They surveyed the amounts of damage left in the wake of the battle. The ballroom was so destroyed from the fighting it was a miracle the roof hadn't caved in on them. The body of the Akuma lay spread eagle two final twitches from it before stillness. Its milky yellowed eye in its partially formed skull rolled back as steam rose from its butchered corpse. The severed head had finally stopped moving. It had started disintegrating slowly, bits of skin clung onto it as its skull started to break apart slowly before crumbling entirely after an office kicked it accidentally in an ashy cloud of black smoke. The enormous chest wound was starting to collapse in on itself at a rapid speed.

As officers and agents closed in, they saw the figure of a slender girl in armor squat and push off the corpse. The roof exploded as more bits of debris rained down. The police looked up to see the hole left behind.

The Ladybug had vanished once again.

* * *

Marinette stumbled into the alley she had de-transformed. It had taken her twenty minutes before the power of the Miraculous had faded completely. She was forced to land against an old wall to an outright abandoned convenience store. Her body ached all over, her left arm was especially not doing so good. Because of the Miraculous's low power, Tikki couldn't heal her fully. She clutched it, gritting her teeth as she tried to look around the corner. The police and Agreste Defense agents were everywhere she looked, with one car speeding past her in a blur of blue and red, sirens making her already ringing ears ache more.

It wasn't only her body that ached.

Marinette felt sick to her stomach. The kind of sick where a lump was caught in her throat for no reason, the bile lunging from her stomach that burned the back of her throat. She knew exactly why she was feeling this way, even as the bile started to roar up from her esophagus, her hand clutching her mouth unable to stop the stream of vomit forcing its way between her fingers. She doubled over, collapsing onto the ground and emptied her stomach like a drunkard. She coughed and spat before she vomited again with tears running down her cheeks. Not just from the pain gnawing at her body, but the realization of what she had to do came rushing down on her. She bellowed in tremendous horror, remembering the person her friend was and all the good times she had with her. Now over forever.

Why did it have to be Mylène? Marinette lamented.

Why did it have to be her friend? Why did it have to be innocent people?

Why did her mother have to die and not her?

Why? She cried. Why?

“Humans are so over dramatic,” Tikki mused. Her form seeped from behind Marinette, lounging on a dumpster with her wings hanging off the sides like a bat. She had taken the rest of the macaroons from Marinette's backpack and plucked one into her mouth. “So you broke an arm. Big whoop. I healed most of it, would've done more if I hadn't sealed up the big hole in her back. Plus, you can pass it off as an accident no–”

“Will you shut the hell up?” Marinette stood fast a little wobbly and with her good hand lobbed an empty can at Tikki, her cheeks tear stained. The can missed and struck the dumpster harmlessly. Tikki stopped mid bite. “I don't give a shit about my arm! I just lost one of the closest friends I ever had in my life today, and then I had to literally eat her heart out like some cannibal. Do you, whatever-you-are-monsters, have no compassion? Do you not value life or grieve or–”

Tikki's claws came very close to Marinette's face. Way too close for comfort. The tips of her talons were barely touching the surface of her eyes or face. The intent was clear enough. The threat was real. Marinette felt this with absolutely certainty.

Tikki looked annoyed. Not just that but an expression Marinette had never seen in the creature before: anger. “Don't test my patience, girl,” she said, eerily common and slow. “I don't give a raging damn about “human life”, because it is irrelevant to me. I've lived a thousand life times before your kind crawled out of the mud. In fact, I've killed holders for much less than this attitude you're giving me. You're lucky you're such a good match otherwise I'd have you torn limb from limb and leave what remains to the rats.”

Marinette shook visibly, her eyes focusing on the glistening talons. They made a move that caused her to flinch, even squeal audibly. But nothing happened. She felt something gentle caress her left cheek, seeing Tikki's hand cupping her the way a mother might do to a child.

“Oh, my dear Marinette,” Tikki said softly, her tone dripping with honey. “Your friend is gone. She was gone the moment the Akuma took her. As I've told you, one who has been Akumatized can never return to the life they had before. What you killed was the monster that took her husk and wore her skin like those fashion models you draw all the time. Nothing more or less.”

The tears started to well up in Marinette's eyes again and this time she wept, falling to her knees.

“I just want it to stop,” she sobbed into her hands, hiding her reddened eyes from the entity. “I don't want any more death or monsters. I want a normal life again. Please make it stop.”

Tikki hushed her soothingly. “I know, sweet thing. But there's only one way to truly make this end. You see, few of us Kwamis can create Akuma on their own. Fewer still remain who know the old ways. The Kwami of the Butterfly Miraculous is one of those and is undoubtedly behind everything. By devouring an Akuma's heart, we can gain more power than he and his holder, unlock new abilities and even find the very source.”

She gently lifted Marinette's chin to look at her. Her claws carefully wiping away the tears from her cheeks.

“Marinette, you hold the power I give you. With our growing strength, we can find the Butterfly Miraculous's holder and end their life. By killing the holder, all Akuma will cease to be. However, that only happens when we kill and eat the Akuma, by doing which you save ten humans with each one you defeat.”

“And then,” Marinette looked up, “will it be over? Will there be no more killing and no more people turning into monsters?”

“Yes, precious. I promise it will all be over and you will finally be at peace. But only if you fulfill your side of the bargain.”

Marinette lowered her head. She stood, clutching her broken arm wincing as Tikki vanished back into the Miraculous with a smile. Somewhere, deep inside her, she knew the Kwami couldn't be trusted. Her words dripped with honey every time she had to convince her to do something in their war. But Marinette cared so little about it right now. Her body was hurt so much and she was so tired. She barely had the strength to leave the alley she was standing in, flagging down an approaching police car before collapsing.

Just a little more, she told herself while the two burly officers helped her into the backseat of their car.

Just keep fighting a little longer.

From the nearby rooftop holding a phone up and using the camera feature to zoom in on Marinette's tired semi conscious face, Adrien Agreste stood half submerged in shadow. He had been standing there for quite some time after Marinette arrived. He had been on a patrol until the call came in about the Horrificator being destroyed in action. He was about to leave when he saw the red flurry pass him, probably not even noticing he was there and changed back.

He recognized the girl, he never forgot a face–especually, in his humble opinion in the most respectful way, a rather cute face. He had no time to flirt with someone injured, his father would be upset if he found out. It was when Tikki appeared that he decided to stay and watch. For ten minutes he hid and listened to their conversation. Adrien didn't mean to eavesdrop on a poor girl and her spiritual companion but he couldn't help himself. He was awestruck by what he heard.

“I don't believe it,” he said quietly to himself after watching the girl leave the alley. “I'm not the only one.”

“Of course you're not, kid,”

The voice came from around his shoulders. The thing draped over his shoulders looked no more than a common black cat with emerald to yellow eyes. But something about this cat wasn't normal in the slightest. For starters, his fur was a shifting flame like darkness that flickered harmless against Adrien's bare skin. The second was a pair of twin tails followed by a third bright yellow eye. Not to mention it, or rather he as he so indignantly said to Adrien when they first met, could talk. A quippy, chatty, sarcastic cat that loved acting so proud of himself.

“Mind you Tikki found a particularly good holder,” purred the cat, his tails flicking with the shadowy flames. “I haven't seen such synergy since the dark ages with that Arc girly. Though, that user didn't exactly last long before they burned her at the stake. Still, I'm sorta jealous.”

“Plagg, come on,” Adrien gave the cat an irritated look.

“Don't take it the wrong way, kid, I'm just stating a fact. Can't a kitty window shop and admire from afar?”

“This is incredible, though. Can you imagine,” Adrien gestured to Marinette in the car as a medical technician came over to look at her. “We don't have to fight this war on our own anymore. If we could get that girl to join us, we have a better chance at winning.”

“I wouldn't put all my eggs in one basket, Adrien,” Plagg licked his paws and wiped his shadowy ears with it. “Tikki's a solo player at the best of times. A snob and glory hound at the worst. You have a better chance with me sharing my camembert than her joining your little crusade. Plus she's not exactly happy with me right now and that Hiroshima fiasco.”

Before Adrien could inquire about what Plagg meant, he felt his pants vibrating. He felt a vibrant buzz in his pocket with a small yellow light illuminating inside. Rummaging in his pocket, he pulled out his phone and answered it.

“Yes?”

“Master Corporal, this is Kagami,” said the voice on the other end. “We've done a head count of all the attendees at Miss Bourgeois's party. All but six people are accounted for, with ten dead and twelve injured.”

“Good work, Kagami,” Adrien replied. “And the Akuma?”

“Ladybug did a number on it. We could barely get any samples before they disintegrated.”

“Still, better than nothing. After you get everyone to the shelters, meet me by the east side of the city to investigate the latest reports of stray Akuma in the sewers. I don't think Ladybug's gonna be available for the next little while.” Adrien looked back down at the street, watching Marinette being helped into an ambulance before they shut the door. For the briefest of moments, he swore she was looking straight at him from the roof. She smiled half consciously. He smiled back. He returned to his call. “Meet me there in one hour, dragon lady.”

“Roger that,” there was a pause. “kitty cat.”

She hung up.

Adrien couldn't help but smirk a little. He was finally starting to rub off on the ever stoic Kagami Tsurugi.

But now wasn't the time to gloat. There was a job to do, a task he swore to uphold until this nightmare war was finally over. It wouldn't be easy, nothing ever way. But someone had to do it.

“Plagg,” said Adrien. “Claws out.”